


Fracture

by mother_hearted



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just so you know," Hannibal speaks calmly, "dear Margery is wondering when you are going to propose to me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fracture

**Author's Note:**

> hannibalkink: As Hannibal has no family, Will takes him home to meet his parents (and/or other relatives) for Christmas, Thanksgiving, or some other occasion. BONUS: The two of them have to sleep in the same room, because Will's family was so convinced they'd want to, and now there's no space to sleep anywhere else.

It's Christmas eve and somehow Hannibal has charmed himself into the kitchen even though he's a guest in Will's father's home. Then again, ever since the two arrived at the Graham residence Hannibal has been nothing _but_ charming. To the point where Will is convinced his aunt Margery is going to run off with him - except. 

There have been some _comments_ Will can't explain (he doesn't want to explain).

From aunt Marge: "I know better than to steal someone's sweetie!"

Um. Whose - ?

Then uncle Galvin: "It's good you see each other regularly, never take that for granted."

Okay, but.

And who can forget, cousin Olivia: "Bet that food's not the only thing that gets you up in the morning."

_What._

Staring at the small guest bedroom with one bed hours later, he really should have swept away his denial and addressed the issue. Sure, he would have felt _awkward_ , but that would have been nothing compared to how he feels now. 

Alone. They left him a room so he could be alone with Hannibal and they could sleep toge - _he is not going to finish that thought._ He doesn't have pajamas, that bed can only fit two grown men if their sides are touching at least, and _fuck_. Wait. _No._ Avoid that word. His mind is straying too close to fantasies he wouldn't admit out loud for all the money in the world. 

He's about to go down the hall, tell his father there's been a mistake, when Hannibal opens the door and placidly raises a brow at the single bed. 

"Just so you know," Hannibal speaks calmly, "dear Margery is wondering when you are going to propose to me."

Will swears, despite the even tone, that there's laughter there. Laughing at _him_ because how on earth could his family mistake _Will_ as someone suitable for _Hannibal_. His body crumbles then, sinking down to the bed while his fingers slip under his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. 

"I had no idea this would happen, I didn't even think it was a _possibility_." 

Calm, mature, refined Hannibal sits down next to him but only prompts him with silence. Bastard.

"Look, you've been cooking all night. You take the bed and I'll grab a blanket and sleep in the living roo - shit. Olivia and her husband have the pull out sofa." He pauses, realizes there is no other space in the house. And even if they left, found a room in a hotel that wouldn't look any better. "Okay, I can, I can sleep on the floor. Pull out an old sleeping bag. Or... something."

Even if the sleeping bag reminds him of a straight jacket. He doesn't have time to dwell on that however, because Hannibal's hand is resting on his shoulder. It forces him to turn his head, though he doesn't look him in the eyes. Focuses on the slight movement of his adam's apple.

"I believe you are making a mountain out of an ant hill. I understand you have your personal boundaries. I understand you are prone to nightmares. Regardless of your family's assumptions, it is still only one night's sleep among friends. You would be more comfortable in bed than on the floor."

It's the first time Will has really heard it acknowledged, the relationship between the two of them. _Friends_. The corner of his mouth twitches self-consciously. He's suddenly reminded of the first time he laughed in front of him, _with_ him, the way his mouth opened - _smiling_ \- how his teeth and his gums had shown, lines forming in his cheeks. How startlingly intimate it was. 

This is their relationship, intimate and strange. 

Will realizes he's waiting for a response, he ducks his head down to meet Will's line of sight and something crackles alarmingly in him. He looks away, nodding. 

He's in bed even later that night, breath quick and painfully shallow when he wakes. He feels the sweat on his back, his chest, even his neck from the trails of sweat from his damp hair. He feels like he's being smothered and it gets worse when he hears Hannibal's sleep thick voice.

"Will?"

"Shit, um, b-bathroom, I'm getting up, go back to sleep."

Will stammers it out quietly in the dark, sitting up and swinging his legs off the mattress. He's wobbly and hot and he stills feel too close too close too close to the nightmare. The handle of the knife in his hand, the screaming in his ears, _please NO yES_ , and the cold water on his face is like a shock, his body hunched over the sink. He avoids the mirror, strips off his shirt instead and looks for a towel to borrow. He's wiping off the cooling sweat when Hannibal appears in the doorway, hair looking soft for once. 

He almost wants to snap, _don't look at me_ , but he's so tired and it's three in the goddamn morning. Hannibal holds his hand out silently and Will notices him eying the towel. He gives it to him, ultra aware of how naked he is, how vulnerable and broken he feels. Hannibal has him turn and then his back is being wiped down. He grits his teeth when he feels him press against the small of his back. Sensitive. He wills his cock not to stir. He doesn't need that on top of everything else.

Something unexpected happens when Hannibal works his way back up to his neck, Will watches him in the mirror as he leans in and _smells_. He stares. Hannibal meets his eyes, gently wiping the sweat damped curls at the back of his head.

"I prefer this to that awful aftershave."

For some reason he laughs, it's fucking weird and Will cracks right up. It's three in the morning, he's standing half naked in the bathroom with a man everyone is convinced he's fucking and he's never wanted to laugh harder or kiss him more.

He turns around, lungs gulping for air.

He does.


End file.
